


Fána

by Doitsuki



Series: Fics that Didn't Quite Make it [1]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brother/Brother Incest, Codependency, Exhibitionism, Id Fic, Incest, M/M, Porn With Plot, Rimming, Sibling Incest, Smut, be warned, future plan: dubcon melkor shenanigans, ok i lied there's no plot this is shit, public display, there u go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-19 05:20:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5955135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doitsuki/pseuds/Doitsuki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the House of the Valar, many Ainur live together in peace. Mairon and Eonwë are brothers, and love each other very much. Manwë and Melkor are too, but same cannot be said about their strained relationship.<br/>One day, Manwë decides to begin training Mairon to leave the house and work with Aulë. Mairon does not want to go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a weird little fic with only one restraint exercised for kink content. Everything else, including dubcon and nastiness, may occur. I will also warn you: In this fic, Melkor is Chaotic Evil – meaning he hurts people just because he can, and is essentially a horrible, sadistic asshole. His character does go deeper than this, but for those looking for a more relatable Melkor, pls check out my other works. This Melk is out for blood. We’ve yet to see if he will get it.  
> Btw. Incest is a thing here, along with a state of constant smut. YEP.  
> (Fic focussed on Mairon and Eonwe)

In the house of the Valar, Manwë lived upstairs. Not on the second or third floor, but the fourteenth with his brother Melkor. He considered himself the King of the world, and spent his days watching with his eagle eyes. Far and wide his gaze reached, into Arda which was still young. The elves had not made their debut upon the sacred ground blessed by the Valar and all Manwë could do was wait. Excitement and hope brought him to the viewing platform where he stood, hands upon the marble railing of the balcony. His brother preferred to sit on the roof and brood, when he wasn’t somewhere underground plotting nefarious things. At present, Melkor was nowhere to be seen nor heard, just the way Manwë liked him. The clouds were like pieces of cotton wool pulled apart, lazily drifting across the light blue sky. Manwë sighed and a few of them curled into a vague human shape. Today, he had peace.

Said peace was shattered when footsteps came running all the way to the balcony, dainty and quick.

“My Lord! My Lord, something’s wrong!” cried Eonwë, flapping his hands about like a bird in a puddle. At his side was Mairon, who looked a little worried but stood perfectly still with hands folded before him. Manwë turned around, his long white hair spilling over one shoulder.

“What is it, my little one?” His kind smile came down to Eonwë’s level as he bent, halving his height to peer into the Maia’s glistening blue eyes. “What has your feathers so ruffled?”

“It’s Lord Melkor, he…”

Manwë narrowed his eyes and the air suddenly grew chill. “I will take care of it.” He swerved around Eonwë, light on his feet in a smooth glide along the polished white floor. “Stay here.”

Mairon took a step forwards, tugging on Manwë’s embroidered sleeve. “Can I come?”

Manwë paused, turning his head just enough for Mairon to see him speak. “It is best that you remain here, with your brother. Do not be afraid. I will return shortly.” He left then, followed by a huff of wind. Mairon immediately clung to Eonwë.

“He looks upset…”

“He will take care of Lord Melkor, and then we will be safe again.” Eonwë wrapped his slender arms around his brother, cuddling Mairon close. “Want to hide?”

When Mairon nodded, he was pulled under Manwë’s enormous fluffy bed and found just enough space to squeeze into. There was a plush carpet for extra comfort and Mairon was glad to not have cold tiles against his face. Eonwë snuggled up close to him and did not let go of his waist, even though the position was a bit awkward. Eonwë didn’t mind having his arm fall asleep if it meant they could be together.

 

Downstairs, Manwë came across a sight that brought his hand to his face in disappointment. Flames were extinguished and tempers frozen upon his cold entrance to the partially destroyed room. Tulkas and Melkor had broken into an argument and most of the floor used for testing creations had been destroyed. Smoke curled from burnt up tables and where once had grown unique flowers now was covered in ice. Then there was blood. Infinite it flowed from Melkor and Tulkas’s respective fánar, black and red and boiling hot. Melkor grinned sheepishly at his brother, then swore incoherently when his jaw fell off. Tulkas had gotten a lucky punch in there. It was a fluke, really. Perhaps Eru’s will.

“Care to explain the cause of this barbaric aggression violating the peace so early in the day?” Manwë folded his arms, floating into the room. An acrid hardness edged his words, clipped and scathing. Melkor rolled his eyes and spoke to Manwë’s mind.

_“It’s well past sunrise, you fool. Get your head out of the clouds and move on. This is a battle between warriors.”_

“Whatever he’s saying, it’s a lie. You know how he is, right?” Tulkas, holding Melkor in a headlock squeezed a little tighter. Some of the vertebrae in Melkor’s neck snapped, and the mighty Vala howled in agony. Manwë raised an eyebrow.

_“Bro! He’s hurting me! Aren’t you gonna do something?!”_

Manwë shook his head. _“You deserve that, you senseless brute. You do not, however, deserve a physical form if you are going to abuse it like this.”_

_“But it’s fun!”_

_“Then enjoy your pain. I’ve had enough.”_ Manwë turned to survey the room. _‘This will take some time to repair. I should call Aulë. He’s good with building things.’_

“Uh, Man… Manwë… Can I finish him off now? Yeah?” Tulkas was just about to decapitate Melkor when a mess of black hair smacked him in the face and proceeded to throttle him. “AGH FUCK!” he shrieked, and suplexed Melkor to the ground. They crashed through the ceiling of the floor below and landed in the middle of Vairë’s parlour, where she wove a protective net around her Maiar at once. As she chastised the squabbling Valar, Manwë pinched the bridge of his nose.

_‘Perhaps I should wait until Melkor’s fána becomes unusable… Then he will not be able to pick a fight with Aulë, or anything else that moves.’_

 

After about half an hour, Manwë had calmed himself enough to return upstairs.

“Everything is sorted, little ones. There’s nothing to fear.”

Eonwë poked his head out from under the bed and dragged Mairon with him, robes askew. Mairon giggled softly and ran to give Manwë a big hug.

“Oh, thank you, my Lord. We were so afraid…”

Manwë welcomed both Mairon and Eonwë into his arms, and held them securely against his body. Their heads only reached his stomach, but there it was soft and warm and the perfect place to nuzzle. “I am glad that you told me… the entire house would have burnt down had I not cooled things down sooner.”

“Is Lord Tulkas alright?” Eonwë mewled, concerned for the wellbeing of the toughest Ainu in Aman. He’d last seen Tulkas engaged in such fierce combat with Melkor that it seemed certain he was going to _die_. The mental energies back then had been absolutely _murderous_. Manwë nodded.

“He is well enough. My brother however has lost his tongue… and the lower half of his face. He will not be fighting for much longer.”

“Why is he always so… angry?” asked Mairon, unable to understand. “He is related to you… and you are forever calm.”

Manwë pursed his lips then and blew a gentle wind to sweep the two Maiar up into his arms, where he held them up against his chest. He nudged Mairon with his angular nose and smiled. “He and I are opposites, my dear. It is how our father made us.” That reminded him of something. Speaking to Mairon’s mind, his expression softened. _‘Our father also made you for Aulë, little one. You will always have a place here with me… but truly, you belong with him.’_

Mairon shook his head and Eonwë reached out to steady him. _‘I… I don’t want to go with anyone else. I love you, my Lord, and I dearly love my brother also. Please, let me stay.’_ The surge of pure _need_ hit Manwë with an almost violent strength and he understood at once Mairon’s desire.

_‘Ai, you sweet little thing. How can I deny such a heartfelt request?’_ In comfortable silence then Manwë observed as Eonwë leaned over, resting his head in Mairon’s neck. The parts of their bodies fit together _perfectly_ , as if they were two halves of a glorious one. Eonwë and Mairon were equally pale, soft and innocent like tall children. Mairon had long, straight hair of flaxen blonde and dark lashes, while Eonwë owned a head of fluffy white feathers with eyebrows to match. Together, they melted into a vision of wholesome beauty. Manwë held them in his arms and sat down upon his bed, full of fond admiration. How he adored his Maiar. The one made for him, and the one fated to another.


	2. Chapter 2

Time passed slowly in the House of the Valar, especially for Mairon and Eonwë. They spent every day in each other’s company, watching the newly born sun rise and observing the passage of the moon. During the day they studied their interests, crafts for Mairon and Strategies for Eonwë. Of course, Eonwë did not believe in true war, not while he lived in the idyllic paradise of Aman. He saw such things as fantasy and immersed himself in what he believed to be fiction, at Manwë’s request. He did not know why his Lord wanted him to know all these things. It stretched his imagination at times, and held his attention for many hours. Today, Eonwë put down his most recent book called _Routing the Enemy_ and peeped at Mairon. Mairon lay on the floor nude, drawing on several sheets of parchment. The fluffy carpet beneath him was so thick that it appeared he was sinking into the floor. Eonwë slid from the couch to be at his brother’s side, and nudged Mairon’s cheek with his nose.

“What are you drawing?”

“A thing.” said Mairon, and moved his left hand away to reveal an intricate crown, drawn from the top, side and front in three boxes. “Do you like it?”

All the shading and fine lines contributed to a majestic vision that Eonwë could understand, and he kissed his brother with an appreciative hum. “Oh, yes! It’s beautiful. Are you going to make that?”

“Perhaps.” Light pink tinted Mairon’s soft cheeks. He noticed Eonwë gazing at him in wonder and moved just a little closer, so his long eyelashes brushed against pale skin. Tilting his head to the side, he kept his hair out of the wet ink upon his parchment and whispered. “I’m done now, brother…”

“Mm.” Eonwë did not say it, but he was incredibly glad to have Mairon’s attention all to himself now. Often they played together, having done so since the moment of their creation. Bodiless they had been, but still wove thought and song around each other in an easy, languid flow. Now, they moved much the same. Mairon rolled on top of Eonwë and took him across the carpet, giggling all the while. Sunlight streamed in through the open windows, along with warm winds that fluttered the nearby gossamer curtains. This was Eonwë’s joy, similar to that of his Lord Manwë. Mairon loved to feel it on his skin, a light tickle or caress depending on mood. Eonwë’s strength matched his in their little contest, and they ended up beneath the window where the carpet ended and the curtains piled up in a shimmering heap. Breathless, Mairon grinned. His eyes shut and as he bared his perfect white teeth, he knew Eonwë was making the same expression. The two Maiar shared their delight through an open connection, minds and bodies linked. These emotions were their constant, their neutrality, their _life._ Eonwë knew nothing else, and Mairon wanted for little other. He in particular enjoyed what came next, and opened his eyes. He felt something soft against his leg, touching Eonwë’s thigh to move it aside.

“Here…” he murmured. “Lie down.”

So Eonwë did, and lay himself beside Mairon. The small amount of shadow beneath the window offered some semblance of privacy but he didn’t care – things like this were free, open and encouraged to those with bodies. Even Lord Manwë indulged in the loving arts sometimes. Eonwë gave his heart to many, as it contained infinite affection for even the most lowly of beings. Mairon, however, was number one. The closest and only true _lover_ Eonwë had. Without noticing at all, Eonwë found himself lavishing wet kisses upon Mairon’s neck, sighing endearments into his ear. Mairon had such pretty little pointed ears, as did Eonwë despite his own being more feathered at the tips.

“What are you sayinghhh…” Mairon’s lips parted the moment Eonwë decided to chew on him, and he delved into his brother’s robes with an ink-stained hand. Without shame he glided over the softest little buttocks anyone could ever want, indulging in the feel of silky skin. A little more handsy than his emotional lover, Mairon decided to forgo vocal effort and grabbed a nice fistful of ass. Eonwë moaned so sweetly, arching his body into Mairon with his head falling back into the curtains. A little of the fabric covered his face, and Mairon gave him a cheeky kiss through it before realizing he too was tangled up. When had all that material gotten around his ankles?!

“Hah! Mai, I can’t see!” Eonwë began flailing around and Mairon had to grab his thighs to prevent being kicked. 

“You’re fine- aH! That was my _nipple_ you grabbed!”

“Then maybe you should have smaller nipples! Hhhh, save meee~~”

Mairon convulsed at the sharp pinch to one of his nipples, nearly smacking Eonwë in the face. The curtains were ripped from the wall and came in a glorious cascade upon the two Maiar, seemingly intent on preventing any of their usual shenanigans. Mairon and Eonwë had fucked each other on almost every surface on the top floor. Even in places gravity tried to deny them.

An image flashed through Mairon’s mind (courtesy of one panicky Eonwë) of the curtains tightening enough to make escape impossible, leaving them both to lie there until Manwë came to save them. The other Maiar would just laugh, maybe even sketch the situation out. Mairon groaned into Eonwë’s shoulder, where he found his face pressed. “We’re stuck…”

Suddenly an intense heat enveloped his right ear, followed by a long, delicious lick.

“No…” said Eonwë, unfurling the curtains from around himself. “ _You_ are stuck.”

“Eonwë?!” Mairon hadn’t expected that at all and once more tried to free himself, even using a bit of logic to find out which parts of his body he could move the most. Then Eonwë _tied his hands above his head._ The most innocent, playful smile danced across those succulent lips.

_‘By the Valar, are you **drooling** , brother?’_

Eonwë nibbled his bottom lip, averting his gaze. _‘You look like a fine meal set out for consumption, Mairon… Mmm, can I have a bite?’_

Mairon rolled his eyes at the seductive attempts. Eonwë was far too pure to _ever_ succeed at such things, but Mairon had to admit he did feel a little helpless and aroused. One thing that wasn’t tied up was his waist, and he was free to wriggle about until his slick, hard length sprang free.

“Ah! There it is~” Eonwë clapped his hands together and looked like he was praying. “Time for the first course!”

“Oh, please…” Mairon heaved an exasperated sigh, his lower body trembling just a bit. “You… you don’t know what you’re doing…” Just as he stilled in resignation, he caught an odd glimpse of expression in Eonwë’s eyes. Those gentle sky blue orbs were a touch too focussed downwards, but soon were covered with feathery white eyelashes as Eonwë dipped his head. He settled between Mairon’s legs, spread out amongst the curtains with his own wispy robes dissolved into the air. Long and divine legs parted to welcome him into their comfortable heat, while arms stayed tied where he’d left them. He licked his lips, gazing up at Mairon from beneath his eyebrows. Then out came his tongue, laving along the side of Mairon’s arousal. Wet lips followed and he batted his eyelashes, listening to Mairon moan. Oh, how he loved to relax on a warm day like this. Mairon tasted of sunshine and butter cookies, smooth and creamy (yes, in that way too.) Eonwë could just mouth at him forever, skin against skin here amongst the curtains. It was slow and easy, as all their games were. Like a dance of sorts, flicking tongues and twitching bodies. Eonwë kept his eyes on Mairon the whole time. Mairon closed his own and lost himself in the clouds.

 

~

 

Manwë wandered into the room as the sun began to set and curiously watched the two Maiar, trying to think of how they ended up in such a position. Mairon still had his hands tied and was on his face with Eonwë behind him, rocking back and forth like a single feather on calm waves.

“What have you two been up to?” asked Manwë, shaking his head with a smile. These two. Always pleasuring each other, and in ways that surprised even him, who was considered all-knowing in the social arts. He’d never considered restraints to be anything other than unpleasant and scanned Mairon’s mind to see how he was feeling. Because Ainur had no refractory period, Mairon had been in orgasmic bliss for _eight hours_. Eonwë, a little less. Manwë knelt beside the bundle of curtains and bodies. Eonwë grinned.

“We were just playing, my Lord.” Still balls deep inside his brother, Eonwë somehow managed to look like the sweetest cinnamon roll out for a sugar-dusted stroll. He pressed himself forwards, the tip of his length burying itself deeper into Mairon’s most sensitive spot. Mairon unleashed such a loud, wanton moan that even the straight-faced Manwë blushed.

“I see you’ve been having quite a bit of fun…” He did not mean to sound disapproving, but was unsure how all the pearly liquid was going to come out of the delicate, likely ruined curtains. Oh well. Vairë did enjoy making things out of gossamer and silk. Manwë picked up the Maiar and held them like two cheeky children in his arms, curtains and all. Eonwë remained firmly seated inside his brother, and the sudden movement made Mairon whimper into Manwë’s robes.

“Come now. Tis late.” Nobody in the House of the Valar needed sleep… but Manwë taught all the Maiar who would listen to him (see: everybody) that rest was important. Refocussing the mind through a period of unconscious meditation was something Irmo had taught him, and Manwë was forever grateful for the clarity it brought to his life. Besides, he liked to watch the Maiar sleep. They were so cute…

Floating along the hallway, he soon reached his room at the end. Once inside, he carefully set Eonwë and Mairon atop the feather-filled covers. Weaving the touch of his power through the curtains, he unraveled them until two nude, flushed bodies were free. Manwë threw the curtains aside and let a gust of air carry them away. Then, he fixed the covers around the two Maiar. Eonwë looked up at him, eyes thick with lust.

“Will you not join us, my Lord?”  
“I cannot… there are things I must attend to this night.” Manwë bent down and gave Eonwë a soft kiss on the forehead, then placed one on Mairon too. Mairon only groaned quietly and closed his eyes.

“No more fooling around tonight, okay? Your brother looks exhausted.”

Eonwë nodded, literally incapable of disobeying Manwë’s orders. The sun finally dipped below the horizon, sending the room into darkness. The Maiar slept. Manwë discarded his body and watched, thoughtful.

_What went through his mind is not for us to know._


	3. Chapter 3

In the morning, Mairon awoke with Eonwë’s arms around his chest. Nestled amongst the thick ruffles of Manwë’s bedcovers, there was enough cushioning for the two Maiar to rest in any position. To Mairon everything looked light and blurry, though a cool wind wafting from the nearby window began to wake his mind. Eonwë he could sense was alert, but Manwë was nowhere to be found. He yawned, stretching his body out. The particles of his fána aligned themselves with his thought and within minutes, Mairon was synchronised enough to get up. Before he left the comfort of his brother’s embrace, he turned and gave Eonwë a kiss on the nose.

Eonwë offered Mairon one in return, as per their usual morning ritual. He then rose and allowed his arms to drop into Mairon’s waist, sitting behind him.

“Yesterday was fun…” he whispered, burying his face into Mairon’s shining hair to take a deep, slow breath. “Mmm, are you up for some more?”

“I want to find Lord Manwë.” said Mairon, leaning until he was flat on his stomach with Eonwë on his back. “He seemed… strange last night.”

“How so?” Eonwë dug his white little nails into Mairon’s arms to keep him in place, but Mairon slid onto the floor and moved like a snake into the hallway. A smile bloomed across his face, cheeks tinted pink.

“I don’t know… just different from usual,  I suppose. Are you going to ride me or help me look? He could be anywhere.” Out in the hallway, the carpet was long and creamy white all the way to the stairs. Mairon was using the power of his mind to propel himself forwards and thought Eonwë might prefer flying instead. A sudden push at his open thoughts came with gentle curiosity. Eonwë’s body dissolved.

 _“If that is what you want, then I shall search.”_ Reforming himself into a small white bird, Eonwë chirped twice then zoomed away. Mairon stood.

_“Alright. I’ll check this floor.”_

He walked into the room on the left, the third closest to the stairs. This was the living room he’d been in yesterday with Eonwë, and vaguely remembered leaving his drawings on the floor. Mairon pushed open the door with the pads of his fingers and peeked in. Nobody had come to replace the curtains yet, but he supposed there was all of eternity for that. His gaze flicked to the floor.

 _‘Ah! My drawings!’_ The only person Mairon thought about then was Lord Manwë, who’d always shown a mild interest in his works. _‘He… might have taken them… but f- I know!! He’s going to show them to Aulë, and ask if it’s good enough! A second opinion. No, I can’t have that. Um… where does Aulë live? The fourth floor, right?’_ It was a far jump in logic but good enough a lead for the somewhat lost Mairon. He sprinted out of the room and went from the fourteenth floor all the way to the fourth. Instead of disembodying and sinking through the floor, he exercised all his muscles until he had to pause for breath. On the fourth floor, the walls were gilded and carved with many majestic patterns. The floor was covered in shiny black marble tiles, cold against his feet. Mairon could not form shoes out of thin air for himself, so he walked on the tips of his toes in silence. There were no doors in this hallway, only arches and small sections of wall in a straight line for several meters. The Valar could manipulate space easily in their own environments, and in the case of Irmo, he could give the illusion of changed time as well. Here, to the left a massive forge glowed with an infinite source of heat, lighting up the workbenches and anvils nearby. To the right were some sitting rooms, and as Mairon walked further he noticed more hallways coming out of nowhere in which various architectural styles were being tested. The most geometric room he found had a large table carved out of stone and upon the table rested his own drawings. Gazing at them with fondness unlike anything Mairon had seen was Aulë, wearing a dark brown tunic and apron. No pants. Beside him, Manwë’s feathery ears fluttered and he turned his head.

“There is our beautiful little artist! Oh, Aulë. He’s naturally drawn to talent, you see? Mairon, come! Don’t be shy.” Manwë opened his arms in welcome and Mairon ran to him, able to hide in those draping sleeves. In his private thoughts Mairon did not like his work being taken and shown to others without permission, especially when he’d not had time to refine it to perfection. He knew he could do so much better… and here was Manwë lauding it as if it were his best. An enormous hand came down on his head and patted him softly. When he looked up, he saw Aulë smiling at him.

“I’m very impressed, you know. These designs are just waiting to be turned into something real.” Aulë’s voice was deep and calm, his manner like the drawing of a hot knife against thick leather. Every word was measured, careful, precise. Yet it seemed so natural, and at once Mairon perceived his heart. Aulë did the same, observing the Maia. “I’d love to have you around here and see what else you can do.”

Mairon nuzzled into Manwë a bit more, unsure. Manwë however turned and peeled him away, holding Mairon’s shoulders to prevent escape.

“It is as our father perceived it: You two are made for each other.” Manwë winked at Aulë, glad to have made this decision. The longer he let Mairon languish with Eonwë doing nothing but make love, the harder it became to set Mairon on the course of his fate.

Mairon regretted chasing after the Lord of the Skies. He was no flighty bird himself and could not run, not now when he was expected to say something. He bowed his head.

“I… do not know what my meager skills can do for you…”

“Then I will teach you. I will give you all the knowledge that could ever exist of what can be made with hand and mind, and your work will will shine as the very best.” Into Mairon’s mind Aulë pressed images of circlets, swords, rings and armour, fortresses and palaces, thrones and staves. He whispered of magic, illusory things, sparkling delights from beneath the ground and mystical creations that defied the boundaries of physical reality. Mairon took one look at all that and stepped forth.

“I will learn.” Aulë seemed nice enough, and Mairon knew nothing other than absolute freedom in the House of the Valar. He could leave whenever he wanted, and only had to step away from his comfort zone when intrigue prickled at his mind. Those images Aulë had shown him were deeply rooted as possibilities now, and it was safe to say that curiosity stabbed him all over at present. Some things were beyond his comprehension. Aulë offered understanding.

“I’ll leave you two to it, then!” Manwë stepped away, showing a graceful thumbs up before drifting out of the room. Something smacked into his face and he nearly inhaled it. Eonwë flapped about, trying to move past.

“My Looord! Mairon’s in there, isn’t he? What’s happened?”

Manwë caught Eonwë in both hands and cupped him close to his own chest. “He is busy with Lord Aulë, my little one. Calm yourself. Your feathers are ruffled.”

~

Aulë decided to first introduce Mairon to the other Maiar, many of whom were nameless and numerous.

“Here are my most experienced smiths, Curumo, Ruseon, and Milionde.” In the forges, three Maiar looked to their Master and his newest acquisition. Curumo had wavy russet hair to his waist and inquisitive dark eyes. He blinked at Mairon, flashing a quick smile. The other two set down their tools and while Ruseon attempted a shy wave, Milionde spoke to Aulë.

“Master, is this the legendary Mairon finally gracing us with his presence? The one chosen by father himself?”

“Yes, yes. Mairon finally joins us, and I expect you all to be nice to him, alright?” Aulë’s hand on Mairon’s shoulder slipped down to pat him on the back. _“Go on._ ” He hinted with his mind and Mairon went, approaching the others. At the workbench, many jewels lay scattered and the chaos bothered Mairon just a bit. The three smiths didn’t seem too worried about it, and Curumo held up the glittering sword hilt they’d been working on. Most of the gems in it were already set, and the few that weren’t rattled around.

“We’re making this for Lord Oromë, Mairon. What do you think?”

“It’s very fancy.” said Mairon, observing the neat rows of rainbow jewels. “What is he going to do with it?”

“Once the blade is complete, he’ll ride around looking awesome!” Milionde jerked his thumb back to an anvil with a long, thick blade sitting on it. “We just have to do some engraving on that and then stick it in.”

Mairon giggled softly, remembering all the _sticking in_ that had occurred yesterday. Ruseon probed to see what was so amusing and instantly regretted it, blushing when he was welcomed into the naughty corners of Mairon’s mind.

“We will not keep you long.” Aulë tugged at Mairon’s body with a firm, willing grasp. “Come. There are many others.”

~

After a few hours, Mairon had settled down with the Maiar in Aulë’s circular studio, where a ring of chairs surrounded a nude figure. Most of the Maiar were clothed, and upon seeing Mairon enter, asked Aulë if he was to be the new model. Aulë shook his head.

“Mairon is here to observe, and perhaps engage. He is my newest student, and a friend of yours.” Words were shared and in the warm, open environment, Mairon went to sit in an empty chair.

“Can I stay here for a while?” asked Mairon, pushing at the lump of clay on the pedestal before him. “I’ve never sculpted before.”

“Of course.” Aulë gestured widely with one hand. “The entire floor is yours to explore. Do as you wish.”

So Mairon sat, and nudged the Maia beside him. “How do you do it?”

“You make some blocks for the basic forms, like this…” Ciossaro took a chunk of clay and made a sausage, then bent it. “It’s a leg. See here how you can do the muscles?” In a few finger-scoops he’d outlined the muscles of the figure without even looking. He’d done it before, having taken an hour previously to get the leg done on his own piece. Mairon’s eyes nearly fell out of his head. At once he did the same thing with his own, looking at the figure and Ciossaro’s sculpture with a few extra eyes. The clay was cool and wet in his hands, but held its shape perfectly no matter what he did with it. Gravity was not a problem in Aulë’s studio. Mairon spent _hours_ there. Then the model moved and took an even _more_ beautiful pose, so Mairon moved his sculpture’s limbs about as if it were a doll. Nothing broke, and Ciossaro never tired of giving advice.

The day passed.

~

When Mairon returned to the fourteenth floor, Eonwë jumped on him.

“Finally, you return!” Endless nibbles met Mairon’s bare flesh. “I thought you would never come back!”

“Don’t be silly, brother. I will always come back to you.” Mairon grabbed Eonwë by the fluffy feathers at his neck and pulled him into a deep, loving kiss. It expressed more than his words could, and was full of joy and longing. Though Mairon had spent the whole day with Aulë, he hadn’t forgotten about Eonwë. Eonwë clearly hungered for him, chewing on his bottom lip and gazing into his eyes. Mairon knew what he wanted, but was too tired to even bother. “To bed. Come.”

Eonwë knew his brother’s intentions and his bright gaze dimmed a bit. He had done nothing all day and did not much feel like sleeping. But, if Mairon wanted to, then he would too. “Alright.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

The next day, Mairon woke early with his dreams of art itching to come out through his fingers. He sprang out of bed and was promptly pulled back in by Eonwë’s quivering hand.

“Stay with me today…” murmured Eonwë, opening his feelings for Mairon to take a look. Mairon saw a needy little Maia begging for companionship, and realized Eonwë wasn’t handling this break in daily routine well.

“I want to go.” Mairon opened his own heart and tried to explain, but Eonwë wasn’t having any of it. “Come on… you can join me, if you want.”

“Really?” At once Eonwë brightened and let Mairon go. “Okay.”

They didn’t bother with clothes and were going down the hallway when Manwë interrupted them. “Hold on, Eonwë. Are you going with Mairon to Aulë’s floor? You must be careful not to distract him or anyone else, alright? It’s very serious work down there.”

“Yes, my Lord. I’ll be good.”

Manwë watched the two Maiar run off and sighed. He had the whole floor to himself, as his other Maiar were out playing in the clouds. There wasn’t much he felt like doing today… but without interruptions, he could have a little adventure of his own. On the floor below lived Varda, who Manwë admired from a respectful distance. Perhaps she was free for a visit?

~

Downstairs with Mairon and Eonwë, Aulë was wondering what to do. He’d never had anyone sit in and watch the daily happenings without participating, and hoped Mairon wouldn’t be too distracted. Already he could see Mairon leaning on Eonwë, tracing circles on his thigh as he watched a random Maia demonstrate painting techniques. Aulë decided to say nothing, and supervised the class.

Eonwë however had no interest at all in what was going on, and only wished to be near Mairon. Being amongst hardworking Maiar and listening to the thrum of collective thought did not align well with his spirit, and thus he had to excuse himself after only a few hours. When Mairon was done for the day, Eonwë pleaded with him to come upstairs earlier so they might have some time together.

Mairon agreed.

For weeks and then months, Mairon spent his mornings with Aulë and the evenings with Eonwë. Manwë seemed to have things to do, so Mairon did not find time to speak with him often. It seemed Manwë had his head in the clouds in all ways possible. Mairon left him alone.

One day, Mairon arrived nude as usual on the fourth floor but was intercepted by Aulë the moment he stepped off the stairs.

“Mairon, while you are exceedingly lovely I do wish you would put on some clothes. Today’s class would benefit from it.”

Mairon lowered his head, feeling a little berated. “Forgive me, my Lord. I…”

Aulë shushed him with a quick hand wave. “No, do not fret. Here. Curumo has all you will need for today.”

“What are we doing?” asked Mairon, walking with Aulë to where the black hallway tiles met the stone-floored forge. Curumo handed him a set of clothes akin to his own, a grey tunic with brown pants and an apron.

“The time has come for you to learn smithing, my skiled one. For this, you will need protection from the heat and metals.” Aulë watched Mairon dress and out of nowhere formed a hammer into his left hand. “I believe you shall be proficient at this.”

“Ooh!” An excited squeak rushed past Mairon’s lips and he grinned at Aulë, brushing his apron flat. “Alright. Teach me?”

So Aulë did, and poured his knowledge into the willing mould of Mairon’s mind. His words and concepts were reinforced with physical application, and he held Mairon’s arms in a firm but gentle hold to teach him the motions. Hammer strikes, fine engraving, glass blowing… Mairon was the quickest learner Aulë had ever seen. Eru had fated the Maia and Vala together. As such, their union was absolutely glorious.

~

After some years had passed (less than a blink to the immortal Ainur), Aulë called Mairon to his room one day. Through tall golden pillars Mairon walked, dressed in the smith’s uniform he’d been given. Aulë’s room was red-carpeted and boasted the epitome of architectural design, made by the Vala’s own hands. On a long leather couch he sat, thick arms exposed through his short-sleeved crimson robes. The fabric matched his beard and moustache, and Mairon absently wondered if it matched something _else_ too. Aulë beckoned to him.

“Come, sit wherever you like. I want to ask you something.”

Mairon didn’t even look around and went straight for Aulë’s lap, climbing in there to gaze at him affectionately. “What is it, my Lord?”

“You have been working with me for quite some time now… I was wondering how you felt about it.” Aulë supported Mairon’s back with one strong arm and used the other to stroke his hair. _‘He really does have beautiful hair. Like liquid gold it’s become during his exposure to my craft. This is where he belongs.’_

The feeling of love and care was known to Mairon as his favourite thing, and he closed his eyes whilst purring softly. “Mm… I like working with you and the others here. I could spend hours at the anvil and workbench alike.”

“That’s wonderful. Would you consider staying with me, then? We all value your presence here in my halls. In the past few years, you’ve become one of my best.”

Aulë’s words of praise brought a glow to Mairon’s fair skin, his smile beaming brighter than ever before. “I would be honoured.” said Mairon, “To be counted as one of yours.”

“Excellent.” The smaller details, Aulë explained to Mairon’s open mind. Mairon would need to sleep on the fourth floor and achieve a certain level of skill, which wasn’t a problem seeing his dedication to please was unmatched. He could go and see Eonwë whenever he had spare time… and that was what Aulë decided for him.

As Aulë curled Mairon’s hair around his finger, he noticed that the former flattish strands had taken a slight curve, bending from the heat of the forges. Mairon had spent so much time away from the airy palace of Manwë that his appearance was beginning to change. This was good – it meant his fána and fëa were aligned with a singular purpose: and that was becoming a Maia of Aulë.

Aulë took something out of his pocket with the power of his mind alone. It floated out of Mairon’s sight and went around the back of his head, where Aulë moved his hand to grab it. Mairon turned to look, and Aulë closed his fist.

“This is for you.” said Aulë, and he pressed his fist to Mairon’s hand. When Mairon could pull away, he saw that he held a gleaming golden ring. In the center was a long, deep red ruby that glowed in accordance to Mairon’s will. “Serve me well, beautiful one. From this day forth, I am your Master.”

Aulë had barely finished speaking before Mairon put the ring on, and perhaps if the Maia had waited he might’ve rethought his decision a tad. But alas, the moment had passed and Mairon now wore Aulë’s first gift to him on his right index finger, where he admired it as he often did himself. Something changed in him then, and he looked up.

“Thank you, Master.” Mairon gazed into Aulë’s eyes, adoration reflected in his own. “I will do my best.”

Mairon did not return to Eonwë that night.


	5. Chapter 5

Mairon decided that instead of telling Eonwë what he’d agreed to, it was best to slowly let things happen. Every day when Mairon went back for his relaxing afternoons, he went a little later than usual. Surely Eonwë wouldn’t notice a few extra minutes each week until he fell asleep and Mairon could stay with Aulë all night, right?

Eonwë noticed.

He counted.

One fine evening the two Maiar had nothing to do, so they stayed together in Manwë’s living room. Eonwë was reading an advanced book on military strategy and found the ‘fictional’ battles quite sensible, and managed to completely absorb himself in it. Staying focussed was a little difficult though, due to him being firmly sat upon Mairon’s face. His buttocks were like plump, soft marshmallows and Mairon delighted in massaging them with his hands. And lips. And to some extent, his tongue.

“Mngh, Mai you must stop distracting me! Lord Manwë said I had to get this book done by tonight…”

“Something _else_ might get done tonight, too~” Mairon’s words vibrated through Eonwë’s entire body and the sidetracked Maia shivered. Ever since Mairon had been working with Aulë, he’d taken some degree of influence from the more physical and aggressive Maiar. His advances and flirting had become so bold that Eonwë was constantly blushing at every filthy word. Still, Mairon was eternally sweet and kind and just the way Eonwë liked him. Nothing had truly changed. Eonwë wanted to believe that and he did.

Manwë however was a different story. He did not think it was a good idea for Mairon to be so torn between his fate and his brother, both equally seductive. The balance did not favour Mairon at all, but Eonwë had his talons into that pliant, willing flesh so deep that Mairon could not deny him much. Manwë could not say anything at all. The last thing he needed was his future herald turning on him out of love.

Mairon pushed his long tongue into Eonwë’s slick body and heard him groan. Like an excited little songbird, Eonwë’s voice had gone high and honeyed with pleasure. What had he even been reading before? None of that mattered. His beloved brother was paying attention to him, and considering how rare that had been lately he would be foolish to ignore it. He cast his book aside, the pages fluttering as a current of air carried it to the table nearby. His hips rocked back and forth, stretching himself open on Mairon’s increasingly lengthy tongue. It had gone so far inside him and pressed into sensitive places, while Mairon’s lips kissed and sucked what they could reach. Translucent white fabric slid into Eonwë’s lap as his arousal grew, standing tall enough to displace his sheer clothing.

“Mmmm, there we go…” Mairon murmured and took one hand to Eonwë’s length, massaging it all the way up to the pointy tip. His words were hardly intelligible, but felt good against his brother’s hot flesh. This was why Eonwë considered the fourteenth floor _heaven_. Mairon treated him to such delicious things here…

 

~

 

Elsewhere, Manwë was in a predicament. Frustrated in more ways than one, his prime objective was not to get some, but to find _love_. Love that was, he thought, difficult for him to express. He had his head in his hands, elbows resting on the huge round table in the conference room. Also in the room was Tulkas, busy as usual competing with Oromë. They had consumed over five thousand strawberries each and were eager to see who could eat the most. Manwë thought it futile. But he had to wait until they were done before he could ask for advice – he trusted no-one else with his secrets. Tulkas, despite being loud and often crass was loyal to a fault and could keep his lips shut tighter than a headlock. Oromë favoured the hunt and Vána’s company over any sort of gossip.

“Ughhh…” Manwë groaned and straightened up. “Can you two take a break for a moment? This is really important.”

Oromë, who looked like he was about to explode, nodded and held up one hand. Tulkas also paused. “What is it?”

“It’s about Varda.” Manwë had already performed spatial and spiritual checks to ensure the subject of discussion was nowhere nearby. The other two Valar leaned in.

“Ohoho, still after her sweet bosom I see?” Tulkas winked so cheekily the entire left side of his face squished up.

“No, Tulkas. I seek her love and respect, like any decent Ainu would.”

“But you’ve got to admit, she-”

Manwë sneezed a blast of cold air onto the table, icicles spreading from his position. “Ghh. Enough of that. Look, I want to court her but I have no idea how. What is she fond of, what does she appreciate most?”

A finger went to Oromë’s jaw in thought. “Hmm… Maybe if you strip naked and dance for her, it will work. You know, like the mating dance that birds do?”

Manwë’s eyebrows descended until his eyes were shadowed in complete darkness.

Oromë raised his hands in defense. “No? Alright, alright, something else…”

“I wouldn’t mind seeing that…” said Tulkas, muttering to himself as he eyed Manwë.

“Are you two honestly so dense that no other ideas spring to mind? Oromë, you have a wife of your own. How did you manage it?” Manwë stole a strawberry from the infinite bush in the center of the table, chewing on it to prevent himself from screaming.

“Hm, what?” Long locks of blonde hair spilled onto the table when Oromë tilted his head. “Sorry, I didn’t understand, I’m too _dense_.”

No amount of strawberries could hold back Manwë’s ensuing wrath.

 

~

 

A few days later, the conference room was used for its actual purpose. All fifteen Valar along with any Maiar who wished to join sat at the enormous table, which changed its size and number of seats to accommodate. Mairon and Eonwë sat between Manwë and Aulë on one chair, dressed in matching white robes. Said robes had a deep V shaped neckline and went to the knees, slit from the hips down at the sides so movement was unrestricted. Eonwë was sitting in Mairon’s lap with his brother’s hands caressing his inner thighs, and couldn’t be happier. Aulë was trying not to look.

On Manwë’s other side was Olórin, then Melkor who was holding only a black cat in his arms. Both the Vala and his creature (a Maia of some sort) glared at everyone. Beside Melkor was Nienna, his sister who wept constantly for the failure Melkor had become. Everyone saw him as barely a Vala with only might and knowledge to his name. He did not create. He did not love. All he did was plunder and hate and destroy and rape. Yes, in that way too. It was only rumored though, and nobody wanted to find out.

Manwë clapped his hands, the sound ringing through the room like silver bells slamming together. “Attention, everyone!”

The room fell silent. Even Melkor seethed _quietly_.

“Father has shown signs of wanting to awaken the Firstborn. It may happen within the next fifty thousand years. I think we should descend into Arda and start making it pretty.”

“I’ll look after the wildlife.” said Yavanna, revealing a tiny mouse from one of her many hands. “Vána, you’ll help me with the flowers, right?”

“Of course! Oh, and Nessa you’re coming with us, don’t even think about running off.”

Nessa nodded politely and looked to her husband Oromë. “You can make sure everyone’s working in accordance with the music, love. Keep an eye on Melkor, will you?”

“Mhm.” Oromë’s eyes went straight for Melkor and he began his watch at once. Melkor drew breath to yell at him but Manwë shushed him with a hand to his lips. That hand vanished into the air before it was torn to pieces.

“I shall take care of the skies, as I always have. What do you think of a rainbow sunrise? I made one this morning.” Manwë snuck a glance to Varda – she’d been his inspiration for such beauty and turned her neck to the side, showing him a thin smile.

“Perhaps you should stick with sensible colours attributed to the sun, Manwë. I am not sure green and purple would go well with Arien’s flames.”

“O…of course.” Manwë lowered his head. _‘Ah! She didn’t like it! Orange and yellow it is, then, foreverrrrr!’_ He hoped Arien and Tilion would get the memo that told of Arda’s perimeter, which they needed to circle in order to create the cycles of night and day. It went well enough in Aman, where everything was made of thought and song, and physical reality could change in an instant. Arda… was a lot more solid, though no less malleable by the talented Valar.

As Manwë gazed into his own lap, he noticed from the corner of his eyes an odd movement to the left. Mairon was stroking Eonwë beneath the table, his mischievous grin hidden in Eonwë’s feathery hair. Manwë nearly had a heart attack.

_‘You two, stop that at once! Pay attention, this meeting is important.’_

Eonwë looked at him with a cutting glare, one side-eyed and daring. Mairon whispered back to Manwë’s mind.

_‘We are ever so attentive, my Lord. Please, allow us this contact. We are rarely fortunate enough to spend time in each other’s arms…’_

‘ _But this, here? It’s inappropriate. Please withdraw.’_ Manwë’s will stilled Mairon’s skilful fingers and Eonwë’s disappointment could be felt by all who were near. The table’s discussion had turned to what sort of structures suited what areas, and Aulë was asking Tulkas how deep he could delve into the earth to make room for an underground palace.

“We shall see just what our power can bring to the vast canvas of Arda.” said Aulë, cracking his knuckles. “Ooh, I can’t wait to build cities for all the little elves.”

Melkor listened in silence. He knew what he was going to destroy first.

~

The Maiar were not permitted to accompany their Valar into Arda on the first trip. Manwë went flying in and saw that everything was indeed a blank canvas, and directed the others like a true leader. Melkor wandered on his own, while Ulmo did not even take to the land. In Aman however, the House of the Valar was full of antsy Maiar.

Eonwë had broken into Manwë’s private ice cream stash and was handing it out to anyone who asked, with Mairon off stealing Yavanna’s massive chili peppers. Curumo and Milionde were having a competition (with many spectators) on who could sculpt the most magnificent dildo with just their minds. Voronwë had flooded the _entire_ ground floor, and on the second floor none of Mandos’s spirit-wranglers could be bothered cleaning up. They were all asleep, just like everyone in the gardens of Lorien. There wasn’t too much going on there that was different from the daily happenings.

In short, most of the Maiar who’d felt they weren’t free to experiment with their individual powers (some were quite strong and restrained, being Ainur just below the Valar) had gone a little nuts. But at least there was no-one there to berate them for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 5 chapters in one go there it is


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